Wicked Good
by Alithea
Summary: A short tale about Glinda and a choice she must make once she sees the truth. Takes place before the movie begins.


**Title: Wicked Good**

**Rating: PG**

**Characters are not mine I am just borrowing.**

It had arrived in a small black velvet box, tied neatly with an emerald green ribbon. There was no card attached. The box, and its contents, and the ribbon said everything there was to say to Glinda the Good Witch of the South. It was not an offering of peace. It was an act of wicked kindness. It was an invitation to level the playing field, and Glinda sat in a dark room with a single candle burning to contemplate it. She untied the ribbon and opened the box, pulling out the gift inside and setting it on the table. The gift was a perfect green apple, and it promised much.

The apple, Glinda knew, was a way of killing the heart, but it was also a door to greater knowledge, and, most importantly, power. Power was the whole reason the gift had been sent, while also making the point that Glinda would always be too weak without it. It was a dare, and a taunt.

Glinda sat back in her chair, and thought of her father. He had been a great man, a good ruler, and a powerful wizard. He could see the future if he cared to, but he very rarely used the gift. And, here, Glinda felt herself growing angry with her dead father. If he would only have used his power more often he would have seen Evanora's treachery coming. He could have lived. Instead he used his gift of prophecy just before he died, and told Glinda that a great wizard would appear and save the lands of Oz from the Wicked Witch's grasp. And, here too, Ginda was indignant, furious that she should be in need of saving. That she, as the rightful heir to the throne, could not make things right herself. But, in truth, she couldn't make things right by herself. She had tried and failed, because Evanora was too powerful, even more now that-

Glinda looked at the apple, the candle light reflecting off the smooth skin of the fruit.

Being a witch in Oz meant you were, and always would be, different from everyone else. Even in youth and innocence having magic meant seeing the world differently. It was not the same perpetual naivete the other denizens of Oz had. Evanora had called it willful ignorance during their last battle. The people of Oz wanted to be blind, and it made them weak, easy to conquer with fear.

Glinda shut her eyes and sighed.

If she took a bite from the apple she would have the power to best Evanora, but it would mean destroying her heart. It would mean the only good witch left in Oz would be Theodora, still a child, still unaware of the evil lurking so close to her. Despite being a witch Theodora seemed to cling to her innocence, and Glinda wondered what would happen if it was ever stripped away from her. There was a temper in the child, an anger that came from trying too hard, and wanting too much to be like everyone else in Oz.

Glinda opened her eyes and picked up the apple. She held it in her hand and tried to imagine what had led Evanora to take a bite from one. She brought it closer, and it seemed to beckon to her. Its perfection whispering of triumph and revenge. All she wanted she could have. She just had to take a bite. She had always been better at magic, surely with the power obtained by losing her heart she would easily defeat Evanora. It could be easy, so easy.

She pressed the skin of the apple to her lips, and suddenly she felt it. Her eyes opened wide as a small part of her died, a portion so small it was hardly real. She blinked and put the apple down, as with that tiny death came knowledge, thoughts she'd never dared consider flashing before her. Truth, she knew the unfettered truth. There were no blinders left.

Glinda saw the world as it really was, and her people as they really were and wished to remain. The apple would not give her more power. She had all the power she would ever need. Her power was great, and she could be more fearsome than Evanora could imagine. There was a cost to yielding to such power. There was always a price to be paid. For the more she relied on her magic the darker her heart would become, and at last she understood why her father so rarely used his gift. It would have made him a tyrant. So there it was for Glinda to take in. To be good or wicked in that land was a matter of how she used her power. It was also a matter of perception. The people knew what good looked like, and it was the sort of truth that left a bitter taste in her mouth. How foolish they were, but were destined to remain.

A difficult road lay before her now. She had a feeling there was something in her father's prophecy that he had not related, something she would only see once the wizard from the sky fell to Oz. No matter, she would use the time to think things over and protect her people from the Wicked Witch as much as she could, but delicately. She had a image to maintain, a show to perform. She wondered if her people would still call her good if they knew all she now knew, and could see.

She picked up the apple and looked at the pink stain her lips had left along the skin. She smiled, and a tear trickled down her cheek, because she saw the truth in the gift. It was not wicked kindness. It was love turned to wanting, made spiteful with rage at Glinda's blindness. She wondered how she never seen it before, and if everything could have been prevented with simple acknowledgement. She shook her head, Evanora had made her own choices, killed her heart in an attempt to kill the love that resided there. She would have to pay the crimes she had committed. The reasons why she had done them no longer mattered.

Glinda placed the apple back into the box, closing the lid, and retied the ribbon. She would have the gift returned. She would make her own statement, about her power.

_Epilogue _

The apple shattered the glass of the mirror and Evanora screamed, "Coward!"

Tears of rage burned down her cheeks and she stepped over the shards of glass. Waving her hand over the pieces to mend the broken mirror. Then she let out a deep breath and looked at her reflection. She passed her hands across her cheeks and the scars vanished from face. Her eyes still red with fury, she bent down and picked up the apple. She turned it over in her hands until the pink stain from Glinda's lips was facing her.

"You do these things," Evanora said with calm rage, "just to torture me." She pressed her lips to the fruit and shut her eyes. "I promise I'll burn your wretched little heart from your body. I promise it will hurt so much, you'll wish you would have taken my offer."

There was a light knock on the door and Evanora turned around. She smiled at her sister standing in the doorway. "Going out?"

"Just for a short while."

"Well," the Wicked Witch grinned, "you be careful out there. You never know when that wicked witch might try something. I'd hate to lose you to her."

"You won't ever lose me. I'll always be on your side, sister."

Evanora gripped the apple, piercing it with her nails, "Oh I count on it."


End file.
